


Hot Chocolate

by apple_juice



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Highschoolstuck, M/M, Shenanigans, alternating pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-29
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_juice/pseuds/apple_juice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school and movie nights and awkward teenage boys, oh my!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really love everything kancake writes but he updates too slow so I just wrote my own Dave/John fic just now HEH. Basically just adorable high school shenanigans and Dave being oblivious to his own feelings, it's a pretty trite/cliche John/Dave drabble but hopefully it's enjoyable? I've *never* written fan fiction before and I wasn't really ever planning on it, so this is a testing the waters kind of thing, I guess. Feedback would be super, awesomely appreciated just because I don't really know what I'm doing!

Sometimes, it felt like everything else just disappeared. One moment, you were sitting in the middle of Economics (like you don't already have that shit wound around your little pinkie finger), and then the next, it was just you and him. Separated by meaningless desks. You in the back, leaning forward, trying to close the distance, however minuscule, and him in the front, chatting with anyone who stopped for the time, for a pencil, and then got stuck with an earful of Egbert. Adorable John Egbert. He-

_Oh._

Wait, what? You lean right the fuck back in your chair. What the shit was that? Did you honestly just do a goddamn Shakespearean monologue about closing the distance and spacing out on the back of Egbert's head? That was weird as hell. Anyways.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are now propping your feet up on the desk as a symbol of all the fucks you truly do not give. A carton of Welch's apple juice solidifies as if from nowhere in your hand (Dragon Tales limited edition print, “I Wish, I Wish” for some quality juice, motherfucker) and you eye it carefully before deducing that the foil seal is indeed, not penetrated. Your apple juice is piss free and ready to drink in this moment where you are not staring at the back of John Egbert's head or glaring at the wench you previously had absolutely no problem with, but now want to stab through the frontal lobe for pushing herself up and sitting on John's desk, swinging her legs back and forth, and giggling every two seconds. This fucking manipulative bitch. (Honestly, five minutes ago she was just Vriska who was pretty cool, if not noisy, and you thought nothing of.) You bet she thinks she's being clever, laughing at everything Egbert says. Maybe she thinks she can edge in on this shit, on this Egbert shit, on your sh-

"Dude, what the hell?" The square that sits next to you has apple juice all over his bag. You look down at the crushed, previously full carton of juice. Fucking hell.

"Sorry bro. Thought I was doing you a favor, shit was drenched in the scent of lower being and now it's achieved true god tier, it's ascended and smells of Zeus' illegitimate offspring- congratulations." It comes out in a stream and you're not totally sure if he caught all of that, but you don't really give a fuck, because it's two minutes to the bell and you're grabbing your bag and sauntering away as he splutters. You're beside Egbert in a second.

"Sup pal." You put your elbow on top of his head, trying to ignore how the hair bristles up and curls around your sleeve, how he looks up at you, startled for a second, and then his mouth slowly forming a wide grin. He's beaming, and it's blinding. Good thing you have shades. _(Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.)_

"Hey Dave! Oh man, I was just thinking about how I wish you sat up here with me. I know it's really cool to sit in the back, but dude, it's actually really lame! You totally missed Vriska's story about her cousins- over Thanksgiving Break, she was taking a nap, and she has so many cousins, Dave, so many. And they..." He rambles on, but you're not focusing on a story that's about something you couldn't bear to give a fleck of a dust about. No, you're focusing on John's gestures, on the forms he's making with his hands and his eyebrows crinkling and his steady breaths. At one point, to illustrate his story, he reaches up and grabs your arm that's above him.

"And they were like, _'Yaaaaargh! We claim this wench in the name of the seeeeeea!'_ And she was like-"

"Vriska, did you accept your wench status or did you fight it to become a lady of the sea, of adventure and intrigue."

"Um, I-" Vriska's head snaps up from Johns to yours, the amused expression vanishing into suspicion as she realizes you just addressed her. "I became a lady of the sea? Obviously?"

"Nah, you know wenches have it easier, right? Wenches don't have to deal with shit. Wenches are wenches and that's all they'll be." You cock an eyebrow, as if in warning.

The bell rings, interrupting what would have been Vriska's affronted, heated retort. Her face contorts into something vaguely resembling 'pissed the fuck off'. Ah, how you know it well. 

"Just sayin'. You can go off and scour the lands for booty, but some booty is cursed and you _do not want to be messing with cursed booty._ ' You shoot her a smirk and ruffle John's head, who honestly has no idea what just happened.

"Um, yeah! You wouldn't get to eat apples, Vriska! If you were cursed. That would suck. Haha, oh man, Dave, you would die. You would already be dead but you would really truly die once you realized you couldn't eat apples. It's okay, I'll be your Captain Jack Sparrow, guys, I'll totally save you! Or wait, maybe that'd be Orlando Bloom. I can't remember. But I definitely don't want to be Keira Knightly."

"Egbert if you ramble any more, I am going to throw you over my shoulder like you are Keira Knightly and abscond the fuck out of here so we won't be late for class."

"Haha, nooo! I'd rather be Tia Dalma than Keira Knightly." John gets up and slings his bag over his shoulder, and widens his eyes at Becca. _"There's an eeeeEeEEevil on these seas, Davy Jones..."_

Vriska pouts like an annoying fucking pouter girl. "I'm Davy Jones? I'd rather be a wench than Davy Jones."

"Wish granted." You snap.

John, still oblivious as fuck, laughs. _"You have a touch of dEeEEeEestiny about you, Will Turner!"_ He giggles like how you imagine Jesus giggled.

Wait, what? Ugh.

"John, enough, you're not Keira Knightly, fine- let's go." You grab his arm and walk him out the classroom, away from fucking Vriska, jegus.

"Haha, you're so pushy, Dave! We have plenty of time, jeez! Oh man, now I really want to watch Pirates of the Caribbean. We should have a marathon this weekend! Okay?"

"Fucking hell, Egbert, fine. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Heh. Yesss. Okay, and I expect you to come in your most swashbuckling pirate gear, okay?" He waves as he walks away, in the opposite direction, away from you.

You wave, feeling most like Jack Sparrow. Deserted. Abandoned. Left to die in a sea of sand, your Keira Knightly opting for the Orlando Bloom of classes. You don't know what that really fucking meant, but you feel sad so shut up.

And then you remember you just made movie night plans.

And you plan on leaving with some booty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay!! whew. i dont really know if im going to do another chapter because im not even sure if im doing this right? but we'll see!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its been like three years so

You are weirded out.

Lately, you’ve been opening your eyes a little bit more. Well, you got new glasses, but it’s more in a metaphorical sense. Has Dave always been that hostile? Maybe he just has a personal thing with Vriska that you don’t know about. No, Dave tells you everything. Maybe too much, sometimes- especially when he’s freestyling! You tap your pen on the desk, frustrated. You have plenty of friends, and Dave doesn’t normally act any different around them… does he? 

“…Egbert?”

You snap your head up, bringing your thoughts up to the board rather than on your confusing best friend.

“Mr. Egbert?”

“Er- yes? Sorry, what?” Half the class was staring at John with varying degrees of apprehension.

“Call for you. Pack your stuff, you’re excused for the rest of the day.” Your English teacher gestures to the door and you quickly pack up your stuff and make for the office.  
Huh. That’s weird. You never get called out of class- ever. You better text Dave to let him know you won’t be walking home with him.

**EB: hey dude!**  
 **TG: miss me already**  
 **TG: pining away for me in English**  
 **TG: writing sonnets and odes in my honor**  
 **EB: you know it. “his stupid justin bieber haircut bristled in the crisp fall air- he dropped to his knees and whispered, ‘i am nothing without you.’ the inanimate anime body pillow said nothing- but he didn’t need words.”**  
 **TG: shit**  
 **TG: now you got me tearing up in class that was fucking beautiful call lalonde to edit the shit in the beginning and were ready to go to print boys**  
 **EB: haha! but seriously dave i’m just letting you know that you’re on your own today! im on my way to the office, i guess im going home?**  
 **TG: huh**  
 **TG: is that so**

You looked up, stopping before you walked into the door of the front office. Sheepishly, you pulled it open and walked up to the secretary.

“Uh- John? John Egbert?”

“Oh yes, sign here sweetie, right under ‘Early Leave’- your Dad called a little bit ago, said you weren’t feeling well?”

Wait, what? 

“Uh, no, I-“

“Hey buddy!” The loud proclamation interrupted John’s attempt to mess everything up. “Wow, your Dad wasn’t kidding, you look terrible.” 

Holy shit.

Dave leaned over the counter like he owned the place, smirking. “Dave Strider- I’m taking him home.”

_Holy shit._

The secretary pinched her face up like she had just smelled something rotten, and plastered a small, tight smile on her face.

“Er. Yes, Mr. Strider, I know, your, ah… brother… called, also. Right after Mr. Egbert’s father.” Her eyes sharpened at Dave with a look full of suspicion. “You two take care now.” Her face softened as she turned to you, smiling a smile that reached her eyes. “You feel better now, John, y’hear? Don’t see you in here too often, and we’d like to keep it that way!”

“Uh… yes, ma’am.” You stuttered out, still confused. Dave grabbed your shoulders and wheeled you out of the office and to the front doors.

“Dude!” The brisk air felt great on your face, and your anger was lessened a bit by the feeling of midday sunlight warming your cheeks, but still. “ _Dude!_ ” You turned to him, exasperated.

Dave just grinned at you and patted you on the back. “C’mon, dude, lighten up.”

It was weird, but seeing his face so big and goofy dissipated your anger. You just couldn’t be mad at a Dave in such high spirits.


End file.
